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Wife Wanted (A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance)(21)

By:Bella Grant
 
***
 
Riley wasn’t sure what happened. He walked back to the restaurant in the rain, hair flattened against his head. Had he said something wrong? He figured she was probably upset from her date with that guy, but why did she just take off like that?
 
“Ben! There you are!”
 
He didn’t register the woman’s words until she reached out and shook his shoulder.
 
“What happened? The waitress said you took off out the back. I waited for you. Dessert and wine, remember?”
 
Riley glanced down at the woman, obviously still desperate to keep his attention despite the fact he’d just rudely run out on their date. Well, at least she was better than Diane coming onto him. “Yeah, sorry,” he said. “Urgent phone call. I can’t believe you waited.”
 
“For you, of course I’d wait.” She winked and licked her bottom lip. “Where’s your car? I’m getting soaked!”
 
“It’s parked around the corner. Let me just call my driver.”
 
Riley stayed with Trisha under the awning of the restaurant until the car pulled up to the curb. He opened the back door for her to get in. He took one last long look up the street, then slid in beside her, trying to forget about the woman with the auburn hair and those green eyes that said so much. They made it back to the penthouse, and he let Trisha in, watching the sudden look of greed in her eyes as she took in his place.
 
“I could fit, like, five of my apartments in here,” she said.
 
“Yeah, it’s pretty nice most of the time,” he said as he opened the bottle of wine and plated the two desserts. Trisha had already made herself at home on his plush couch, kicking her shoes off and tucking her legs underneath her. She thanked him when he handed her a wine glass, then came back over with the desserts.
 
“You’re quite the gentleman.”
 
“Except for running out in the middle of dinner.”
 
“It’s all right. I understand. You’re busy, I mean that’s how you’ve been able to get where you are.” She ate a bite or two of the chocolate cake, but it was too rich for Riley all of a sudden. He could hardly swallow any and finally set his plate down and contented himself with just drinking wine. It was expensive, he could tell by the label. Guess she’d told them to charge it to his tab. “Not hungry?” she asked.
 
“Hmm? No, I guess not.”
 
“Or, you’re just not hungry for cake.” She downed the rest of her wine, then crawled to the other side of the couch until she was practically in his lap. “I know what you want.”
 
He didn’t stop her when she took the wine glass from his hand and set it aside. Nor did he remove her hands when they started clawing slowly down his chest to his jeans. Her lips burned across his neck. Part of Riley wanted to sit back, relax, and enjoy the attention for the night. But another part told him this wasn’t the woman he wanted. Definitely not the woman he hoped to marry in less than two months.
 
She’d just grabbed his hands and planted them on her breasts when Riley picked her up and set her aside on the couch. She huffed at him and tried to reach for his jeans, but he backed away. “Listen, you can sleep here for the night if you want, or I can call you a cab, but this isn’t going to work.”
 
“What?”
 
“I said it’s not going to work. Please, either make yourself comfortable on the couch or get out.”
 
“No man has ever turned me down!” she snapped. “I’ve had the richest of the rich, you know.”
 
“And I can clearly understand why they did not keep you around,” he muttered as he re-buttoned his shirt. “You know what, I’ll just call you a cab.”
 
“What happened, huh? I thought we were having a good time.”
 
“Lady, I’m not an idiot. You want my money,” he snapped. “Well, guess what, you’re not my type. There’s the door—get out before I call the cops. Cab will be waiting downstairs.”
 
He picked up his cell and called for a cab while she stood by the couch, face red, mouth moving in silent curses. She wasn’t used to hearing the word no, but he could tell she was used to being kicked out of rich men’s lives. Most likely when they’d tired of her. He’d have to have a talk with Ben in the morning about being a bit choosier with the women he picked. After a tense stare down, Trisha finally flung her hair over her shoulder, grabbed her shoes and the rest of the expensive wine, and traipsed to the front door.
 
“You’ll never find another woman like me.”